Sissy
by howlittleyoutrustme
Summary: Fluffy one-shot. Regina and Emma play Knuckles. Established Swan Queen.


Quick fluffy one-shot I've had lying around for a while. Hope it's enjoyable.

* * *

"Wimp."

"Jock."

_Smack._

"Ouch! Regina, that really stung."

"Please, I'm sure the fact you squealed hurt your pride more than I hurt your hands"

"Haha. Because I'm the egotistical one."

"Now, now, dear, don't provoke me. I cursed an entire population, so I quite clearly have no qualms about annihilating you at Knuckles."

Emma simply rolled her eyes and gestured for Regina to make her move.

They sat at opposite ends of the hardwood table; both sets of eyes narrowed more in concentration than in pain. Competitions in the Swan-Mills household were a serious business.

Both hands on the table, knuckles down, with the backs of them facing Regina, Emma awaited the blow. She was not disappointed.

With a well-practiced flick, Regina sent the coin shooting across the table, colliding with Emma's fists with a dull thud.

No sound came from Emma although the grimace on her face was a clear indication of the impact of the attack. In all honestly, her hands stung like nothing, and she was loosing badly. Regina was an absolute pro at the game - despite claiming never to have played it before. Every flick of the coin hit its mark when it came from her hands. Emma struggled to match the brunette in accuracy and strength, as well in the tamping down any pain. The Mayor Mills poker face was infallible.

"I'm going to get you for that, Mills.", Emma said mockingly, palming the coin and clicking her neck melodramatically before lining up the coin with the perfectly manicured hands presented to her.

"Come at me."

Emma frowned and stared at Regina for a moment in utter confusion. To the best of her knowledge, no such words had ever escaped the lips of the regal woman in front of her before.

As she watched, Regina's cheeks coloured and she looked away, "I was…_ahem_…saying what you would have said."

Emma tossed her head back and let out a loud laugh before grinning at her girlfriend.

"I assume 'bring it' be more appropriate?", Regina said, regaining some of her good humour and continuing the joke.

"There you go, you've nailed it."

"Just flick the coin, Emma."

At that very moment, the coin flashed out once again, striking Regina's hands in a flash of silver. The blow elicited a sharp intake of breath from the brunette accompanied by a flinch that darted its way across the sultry features Emma admired so much. The blonde watched the response and winced at it, reaching out to pocket the coin that lay on the table.

Regina looked puzzled for a moment at the pain expression on Emma's face, then let out a long sigh. She quickly stood, and slid over to where Emma sat, resting herself on the edge of the table beside the blonde. In a smooth motion, she found herself being pulled into the lap she had sat beside, swiftly being securing by a strong pair of arms around her waist.

They had started playing soon after Henry had gone to bed – Emma and their son had played a few gentle rounds of the game in order for Henry to be able to defend himself if pressured into the game at school. That was his reasoning, anyway. Regina had pretended not to see the faint bruises on his knuckles when he came home, and so was faintly sure he actually enjoyed playing it with the children and that there was no 'being pressured' about it.

It was light-hearted fun but, as always, it soon escalated beyond just a simple game. Due to the fact that both of them possessed some fairly masochistic tendencies, both of them knew that initiating the game had been a mistake and would likely lead to upset.

Even knowing this, neither of them stooped the game in its early stages. Now both of them bled from scrapes and cuts, and their knuckles were littering with dents and shadows that seemed almost constellation-like against smooth skin.

Seeing the gloomy, distant look on her girlfriends face, Regina slid one hand around Emma's neck, and used the other hand to gently pull the blonde's face around to face her own.

"Emma, you didn't really hurt me, you know.", she said softly, her eyes gentle and as desperate to convey her message as her words were.

"I did.", Emma replied solemnly, pulling Regina's hand into prominence to prove her point.

They sat in silence for a moment, feeling the drops of blood on their hands beginning to dry and clot. After the stillness of those seconds, the move Emma made attracted all of the attention to it. From where her fingers clasped Regina's, she raised the entwined hands and raised Regina's bloody knuckles to her lips, pressing a gentle, apologetic kiss to the worst of the bruising.

It seemed like a promise more than anything, the brush of those lips against her hand. Seeing the droop of Emma's shoulders, and the sadness in those green eyes she loved so much caused Regina more pain than the scrapes on her flesh did, and it frustrated her nearly as much as it upset her.

"I'm sorry.", were the words that finally clawed their way free of the riots in Emma's mind. They hung in the arm almost as if somebody had painted them there – as if they were some unoriginal attempt at art on the wall of some clichéd gallery. As if they would draw the pretenders and the frauds, draw them to gripe and gape at the inability of the two words to express the feeling Emma felt.

"There's nothing to be sorry for.", Regina replied, her tone a little harsher than she intended it to be, "Really, Miss Swan."

The blonde shot her an unconvinced look and pressed a chaste, unhappy kiss to Regina's shoulder, curling her arms more firmly and eliminating the distance between them.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you, Regina.", Emma said, ducking her head, and looking contrite, "I've broken most of the promises I've made to you, this is just another one. And don't pretend you're not angry. You only call me Miss Swan when you're angry."

"If we're comparing bad deeds and broken promises, mine trump yours. The Evil Queen, remember?", Regina said, trying to rescue the conversation through humour, "And I'm not angry."

"That's not what I'm talking about. That's the past. I hurt you after I said I wouldn't. And I know it's only Knuckles, Regina, but I've caused you pain. It's the only thing I can do well, apparently. Apart from make you angry."

"I'm angry that you're upsetting yourself over nothing. You haven't hurt me"

"Uh huh.", came the unconvinced reply

"Do you really think I'm that much of a sissy, Emma? I wouldn't have played if I couldn't take a few scratches and bruises. It was a game. I can take it."

"Can you?"

Somehow Regina knew they weren't talking about playing Knuckles anymore. The mere fact that Emma was so scared of putting a foot wrong for fear of being discarded cut Regina to the bones. She knew little of Emma's childhood, but Regina guessed that the blonde had learned fairly early on that broken 'promises' and small mistakes could cost you life you thought was your own. Regina understood the feeling too well. The blondes face was pressed into her shoulder, covering by a veil of soft curls, the tension in her body radiating from her – every twitch, every shift seemed amplified.

"Emma, look at me."

Regina's tone left no room for argument. She swivelled to face Emma, staying silent until green eyes met her own.

"I am not going anywhere. I will stay with you until you tell me to leave, and even then, I think that you'll have a hard time getting rid of me. I will give you space if you need it, and leave you none if you need to be covered completely. You can flick coins at my fists until I bleed, and you can make me run for miles if that's what you need.

You're allowed to make mistake, and you're allowed to break promises you had no hope of keeping. You have a tendency to set expectations that are sky-high, and tear yourself apart when you can't reach them...We're going to have to work on that.

I don't mind if you tread on my feet, or if you trek mud all over my house. You wear that stupid leather jacket, and you can drive that death trap if it makes you happy. You've got to stop worrying about whether I'm going to discard you like a piece of trash. I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to. It would be like putting a Botticelli painting in a yard sale.

People make mistakes – I do believe it's a fairly common characteristic in humans, actually. You've made mistake. I have. Collectively, you and I have made decisions together that were the worst things to do in our respective situations.

But that doesn't matter, not to me: I'm not backing down from this and I won't run. I'm not going to give up on you, ever.

I can take whatever you throw at me, Emma. I love you. So much."

Green eyes glistened as they met their brown counterparts, and gentle hands slipped from their place on Regina's hips to cup her face with reverent delicateness. A soft thumb stroked a line across her cheekbone, and she leant into it, her eyes slipping shut for a moment, "Now do you see?"

Emma nodded slowly, the corners of her mouth turning up a little, "I see."

They stayed like that for a long time afterwards, holding one another; Emma moulded to Regina's body, her arms holding the person who had become her protection close, her face nestled in the space between Regina's shoulder and neck.

The only movement was the gentle touch of Regina's hand sliding softly back and forth on Emma's back, providing the validation of the words she had spoken.

This was it, for both of them. This was love.

* * *

Did it make you want to chunder? If so, my fluff did its job. If not, I'll try harder to make it even more sickly sweet in the future.


End file.
